Three Little Words
by darthsydious
Summary: Prompt-fill. John finally says three little words. Molly is surprised. Sherlock is a poop-head. AU John/Molly


_Requested by Bellarsam Chrisjulittle she thought up the skeleton of the plot and I filled it it. Awesome prompt! Thanks Bellarsam Chrisjulittle! _

_I don't always fill requests, but don't be shy, if you have an idea, it's fine to send it to me! _

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><p>"Oh, thanks so much, you're an angel," John said as Molly set down a take-away container of food.<p>

"I brought some for Sherlock too, I know he won't eat it, but it's there just in case." John opened the container, taking out an egg roll and putting it on a napkin.

"Need anything?" she asked.

"Yeah, just get his coffee from the microwave. He heats it up and then forgets it's in there when he's on a case."

"Sugar already added or no?"

"Don't think so- Sherlock, get up,"

"What?" The Consulting Detective was stretched out on the sofa, deep in his mind-palace when he heard John calling for him. "What is it?"

"Open,"

"Whyooph-" an egg roll was stuffed in his mouth.

"Say thank you to Molly for bringing food."

"Mahgoo-" Sherlock said around the egg roll, devouring half of it as he got to his feet in search of his cup of coffee.

"Your coffee's on the table," John said, heading back to the kitchen. Molly, not sure if she was surprised or not, pulled down plates for them. "It's the only way I can get food in him while he's on a case, this one is especially long."

"You'd better eat up," Molly said. "Don't wait for me; you know how he gets calls at odd hours." John nodded, not even bothering with a plate, eating straight out of the take-away container.

"It's good to see you, feels like it's been ages," he said in between bites. Molly smiled in response.

"Maybe after the case we can go on another 'real' date," she teased. According to John, because he liked things proper, they'd only been on three 'real' dates, which so far had been dinner and a movie, or the last one, dinner and a brisk walk through the park because parks at night were dangerous. To Molly though, they'd been dating for much longer. They'd had coffee together over six dozen times in-between the three 'official' dates, he'd slept in her bed already (that was pre-official date though, and it was mostly because Sherlock had put a dead cow in her bathtub after a very long, upsetting day). John knew what sort of flowers she liked, what perfume she wore and when she wasn't sleeping. He was the first person to text her in the morning, and the last one to text her at night.

John knew for a fact that she was the woman for him, but a bloke doesn't tell a woman he loves her after only three dates. Molly Hooper deserved to be courted like a lady, flowers and chocolates, all that stuff that women liked because…well…there was only one Molly Hooper in the whole world. The woman who saved Sherlock Holmes, his best friend. Also the only woman in the world that had Sherlock Holmes and Mycroft Holmes agreeing that she was an exceptional member of her sex (high praise indeed, from the Holmes brothers). She'd had her run of bad luck with boyfriends, and John wanted to make sure that she never had to endure that again. Dating when you're Sherlock Holmes right hand man isn't exactly the easiest thing to accomplish. John had made it perfectly clear to Sherlock that he was not to be disturbed on his dates. Sherlock rarely obeyed that rule, and as such, time with Molly was often cancelled or interrupted or cut short, much to John's chagrin. Molly brushed it off, knowing the work was important.

"I'll be here when you get back," she'd smile and give him a peck on the cheek. She took her chances as they came along, tonight was a perfect example. Sherlock was waiting for information from the lab, (Stamford had kicked him out because his pacing was driving everyone mad) so Molly, having finished her shift, picked up dinner for them.

"Does this count as a fourth date?" she asked cheerfully. "We've got a candle," she nodded to the skull shaped candle a fan had mailed to Sherlock. "Hang on," she got up, digging through the kitchen drawer for the pack of matches. "There, ambiance," she said and John chuckled. Molly worked with what he could give, making even a negative into a positive. "We've got music," she pulled out her phone, scrolling through her playlist. "Wait-wait-wait-"

"Hit shuffle, first song that comes up-" he said with a laugh. She did so, giggling

"_Love, love changes everything-"_

"I _knew_ you had Michael Ball on there somewhere!" John shouted, accusatory as he laughed and Molly blushed, giggling.

"Yes I do, so what?"

"Ughh you're such a granny."

"Eat your kung pao." She stuck her tongue out at him. He looked at her across the table, her cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling in the glow of the candle (yeah, okay, it was a half-melted skull, beggars can't be choosers).

"Thanks for doing this Molls, I know all this isn't easy but, it's great, I appreciate it."

"I'm happy to," she shrugged in response. "That's what people do when they're dating, right? They make time," another shrug. "I make time for the people I care about."

"You do more than that," he insisted. "Not many girlfriends would do everything you do, put up with what you put up with."

"Not many of your girlfriends knew Sherlock Holmes the way I do," she replied easily. She looked back at the consulting detective on the sofa. "It's just a matter of looking on the bright side, and the plain simple fact that I enjoy taking care of you." She turned back to him, smiling. He was admiring her so intently, all warmth and caring and Molly thought for an absolute split second he might have been looking at someone else. Force of habit. Nobody looked at her like that. No one but John and heaven help her if it wasn't the loveliest feeling in the world. "What?" she asked. He shook his head, his smile didn't fade though.

"I love you."

She blinked.

"What?" His smile dimmed for a moment. Bollocks. She'd ruined it.

"I love you," he repeated. "Sorry, is it too soon?"

"No I-I just um…" it took him a moment to realize that she was blinking because she was about to cry. "I don't think I've ever believed anyone who's ever said that to me- and I-I don't think you'd lie to me John because that's not what you do and-"

"Hey-hey," he pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I do love you, it's not a joke, and it certainly isn't a lie." She kissed him first and he was happy to follow suit.

"I love you too, by the way," she murmured when they parted at last.

"I hope so," he chuckled against her mouth, kissing her again. "Don't you ever doubt how I feel about you, Molly Hooper, that won't change." She smiled through her tears.

Sherlock studied them. Ugh. More kissing. They were doing a lot of that tonight. In the rooms of his mind-palace, he'd constructed several that attached for John and Molly due to their budding friendship-turned-romance. It'd be much easier to keep them in one room now. He was grateful for them both, they were infinitely useful on cases and when he needed assistance with experiments. Still, they were more than that, friends, or goldfish, as Mycroft referred to them. He was pleased they were so happy with each other. Molly Hooper finally had a man worthy of her, and John Watson finally had someone who took him for what he was. It was a perfect solution, and Sherlock was satisfied. Well. Almost. If he'd only get that information from the lab-

His phone buzzed and he leapt to his feet, swiping his thumb across the screen.

"Oh- Christmas!"

"Noo, Sherlock-" John began as Sherlock climbed across the furniture, landing neatly on his feet.

"Yes! Lab results are in, it was the nephew, John!" he slapped the doctor on the back. "The _nephew_! Let's go!" he grabbed his coat, dashing out. "Ta Molly, leave the rest of the egg rolls. We'll be back late!" He pounded down the stairs, his shout for a taxi echoing up the stairwell.

"I'm sorry," John sighed heavily. "Thought we'd at least have a couple hours,"

"Don't worry," Molly rested her hands on his chest. "Go on, go save London and when you get back, I'll make tea and crack open the jaffa cakes." Another kiss and John lingered, not wanting to go.

"Come on John," Sherlock banged on the stairwell. "Never fear, Molly I'll bring him home alive-"

"Thank you Sherlock," she laughed as John sighed heavily, head against her shoulder.

"I'm tired," he whined.

"I know," she hoisted him up. "Come on, I'll be here when you get back."

"I love you," she smiled.

"I love you too."

"John!"

"Call me one more time, see if I won't throw you into traffic," John shot back and Sherlock quieted. John turned back to Molly. "I'll text you, or call when we head home."

"Whichever is easiest."

"I'll call," he decided, knowing she preferred it.

"Love you," she smiled.

"Nope, still not sick of hearing that," he grinned, kissing her one last time before grabbing his coat and hurrying down the stairs to the waiting cab.


End file.
